Numbed Silver Eyes
by I hate Potter yes I do
Summary: Yet another song-fic about Draco Malfoy - people are warned, contains death and general angst-ness! One Shot (as usual). Please R&R, and flamers will be flamed with glee


Disclaimer: I don't own Draco Malfoy (oh the horror), neither do I own the song. The song is Numb by Linkin Park and is owned by Linkin Park. I do not own nor claim to know any of them (despite the stalker-status of many of my friends). I wish I owned Draco Malfoy, then I would be making millions instead of being a poor biznatch and I would be living in Miami in luxury with Ishtar. But no, life is cruel. Dun sue. You'll just get some lint. I don't even (technically) own this laptop (*sob*). But I do love Pirates of the Caribbean music ^_^ 

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_Tired of being what you want me to be   
Feeling so faithless lost under the surface   
Don't know what you're expecting of me   
Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes_

Draco hissed. The moon-shaped scars circled his wrists. They were from his latest 'disciplinary training'. More like torture... He rubbed the scars absently. They were white on his already pale wrists... you couldn't see them unless you looked hard. On his father's orders, as usual. 

This time he was hung from his wrists in manacles for three days, being spoon-fed water once a day. This was held in the Malfoy dungeons with only pants to protect him from the icy English Winter. Even more icy thanks to the cold stone at his back. 

_'Caught in the under-tow,   
Just caught in the under-tow'   
  
Every step that I take   
Is another mistake to you   
  
'Caught in the under-tow,   
Just caught in the under-tow'_

He didn't want to become a death eater. He didn't want to bow down to some psychopathic Dark Lord, disfigure his already disfigured body with something as blatantly obvious as the Dark Mark... even the killing was beyond him. He could find joy in tormenting, and occasionally harming, Potter... but that was Potter. He lived so Draco could sneer at him. 

And his father thoroughly disapproved. He was to grow up a proper Malfoy, the exact image of the iced-over Lucius. The same Lucius that beat him frequently for not doing enough at school. Damn him, he was getting the top grades in his year! Except for one. His Arithmancy. He gained second place. To the mudblood. He was first for everything else... 

_I've become so numb   
I can't feel you there   
I've become so tired   
So much more aware   
I'm becoming this   
All I want to do   
Is be more like me   
And be less like you_

Draco growled and had to forcibly prevent himself from punching the wall. That would only earn him a broken hand and further 'disciplinary training' from his father for trying to dent the mansion. He cared more about the fucking mansion than he did about his own son. 'What does that say about the man?' Draco huffed. 'Certainly nothing good.' 

He paced his room. In a little while Father would come up and expect an apology. And a long speech about why he had now changed his mind and was going to join the Dark Lord's Army as one of his most faithful followers as soon as he hits eighteen. 'Well get fucking real, Father,' he thought vehemently. 'I'm not going to be you. Look where your association with the Dark Lord has gotten you? An escapee from Azkaban. Rejected from society. Yeah, I really want to be a loser, Father.' 

_Can't you see that you're smothering me?   
Holding too tightly, afraid to lose control   
'Cause everything that you thought I would be   
Has fallen apart right in front of you_

Draco spun on his heel, turning to his desk. Could he run away? Maybe stay at Hogwarts all year round... Dumbledore might allow it, you never know... That train of thought was cut off almost immediately. No. Lucius would find him, and when he did... there would be hell to pay. And that was the least of his worries. What about the other students? What would they think when they found out he was on the run from his own Father?! Malfoys were cursed with an over-abundance of pride, and Draco shared that curse to the full. 

How else could he escape? He would be forced into service to the Dark Lord by his father. He would be forced into his same footsteps, climbing the ranks in the same way, taking over the same position once his father had died... Everything the same, as it had always been. As tradition held it. 'SCREW tradition!' he mentally screamed. He had been so brought up with tradition... deliberately he was sure, so that he could not break the traditions. They had to be up-held... 

_'Caught in the under-tow,   
Just caught in the under-tow'   
  
Every step that I take   
Is another mistake to you   
  
'Caught in the under-tow,   
Just caught in the under-tow'   
  
And every second I waste   
Is more than I can take_

Draco sat at his desk, picking up a quill and parchment. It didn't matter what he wrote to his father... he could feel nothing. He was beyond caring, beyond where a sane thought could keep him going. 'Dear Father,' he wrote. What to write next? 'I hate you with every ounce of me and hope you die a painful and drawn-out death' didn't have that subtlety all Malfoy's had. Subtlety? Screw that. It didn't matter any more. 

'The world sees you as a failure. But they don't see you through my eyes. Failure is too weak a word for what I see. All I want to be... all I've ever wanted to be, was be more like me, and less like you. Now at least I know I've failed in my own original way, and not failed like you.' He signed his name at the end, slipped it into an envelope and summoned a house-elf to deliver it to his father in 20 minutes. The house-elf disappeared. He was left alone once more. 

_I've become so numb   
I can't feel you there   
I've become so tired   
So much more aware   
I'm becoming this   
All I want to do   
Is be more like me   
And be less like you_

A jar full of sleeping pills sat beside his bed. They were his quiet act of defiance. He used them because his father had forbidden him to use sleeping-draughts. He could pass these sleeping pills as some sort of inane candy. He had heard that Muggles often took too many and died... maybe it would do the same to him? He hoped it would. His glass of water was beside the jar. 

_And I know I may end up failing too, but I know   
You were just like me with someone disappointed in you_

He was scarily calm for what he was about to do. He had no friends to leave behind, nothing to leave behind but a lot of pain. A lot of pressure. A lot of hate and killing. 

_I've become so numb   
I can't feel you there   
I've become so tired   
So much more aware   
I'm becoming this   
All I want to do   
Is be more like me   
And be less like you_

Draco picked up his glass of water and upended the jar into his hand. He pushed a pill into his mouth and drank it down. Then another. His dosage was two pills before he got into bed. A third followed. Then a fourth... he continued downing the pills until he had lost count. Most of his hand was empty when it had been over-flowing. 

_I've become so numb   
I can't feel you there   
Tired of being what you want me to be_

He could feel little. Everything moved in slow motion, even himself. He downed the last pill and put the empty glass on his bedside table. He lay back and stared at the ceiling, smiling secretly to himself. "I'm tired of being what you want me to be," he said to the uncaring stone, thinking that that would have made the best ending to his letter to his father, it's a pity he hadn't thought of it before, but no matter now, what was written was final and that's all that counts... 

_I've become so numb   
I can't feel you there   
Tired of being what you want me to be_

Bright silver eyes closed to the world.   
  
  


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There. Another depressing one. Just so you guys know, I'm not actually depressed, I just hear these songs and think 'OMG! This would make such a cool story if this was !!!!' So yeah, I'm not depressed, nor am I suicidal, but I am pissed off. 

For all you people who are depressed and moping, here's a little message: Don't whine and bitch to me, whine and bitch to the person who can change it, whether it be you or your mum or your boyfriend or whatever the fuck, because I, like a lot of people, don't give a shit. I'm too busy living, like you all should be!!! And don't, whatever you do, don't kill yourself. You're punishing more people than you know, and you could be killing them too. I know too many suicidal people than I care to know, and if I can help someone in my situation (in the middle of a hyper-active group of bi-polars, masochistic people, self-indulgently depressed people (no Morbane, I am NOT naming any names and it is not you in the first place) and things like that) then I've done something. 

Btw, all my friends who are reading this, do NOT go all guiltified because that just pisses me off even more, do NOT apologise, do NOT treat me as though I am fragile and do NOT go all pissy on me because I will just ignore you. It is FAR too close to the full moon for me to be entertaining any sane thought. 

Now that my ramble is through (and almost as long as the fucking story itself!!!), ENJOY!!! And read lots about Draco seducing Harry or Harry seducing Draco because that is just SO sexy. 

Just a note, I wrote this sometime last year... 2003... so um, yeah. My views still stand, but I'm just not as ticked off ^_^ Although gimme a few minutes, and I'm sure I can dredge up something! 

~~*~~Priestess of Ishtar~~*~~ 


End file.
